Forgive me, Blogees, for I have sinned

It has been one week since my last proper post.

We have been thrown into a bit of a tizz and whilst I can't go into too many details here, obviously being because it's the internet and who knows who's reading whose business these days, I can now divulge this much:

We are on the precipice of a potentially major change, me and Steve. And Lol, by default.

We are about to put in an offer on a house. Nay, a home. A glorious place that, by its very facåde, looks like it wants to take you into its ample farm-wifey bosom and give you a big ol' hug. And then make you a mug of cocoa (blegh, no thanks, unless you put cream and/or ice cream in it and/or sugar) and sit you down by the warming fire while it washes your clothes for you.

Good grief, I am a right ball of heightened working order right now. We are pumped. At the ready. About to potentially move to a place we could own outright in next to no time. The financial relief is but a small portion of the appeal, though. It's a fizzer, really, in comparison to the commanding views from back and front yards of this place. Of its potential to be renovated (oh how Steve has wanted to get all crowbar on something's ass for such a long four years now). Of its uber-proximity to shops, station, primary school and hospital - all within 15 minutes' walk.

We have had two official valuers through our place, plus one very savvy friend in the know who has her finger on the pulse of property prices in the area, and it's unanimous: this li'l humble place we bought as fresh-faced, unpregnant, unwed 22 and 27 year-olds has surpassed our expectations in what it's now valued.

Who the F*** knew that would happen? And, dammit, why the hell shouldn't a break come our way anyway? It's a scary thing, though, and even more humbling to even consider that something you've tended for ten years and watched being built from the ground up could be worth so much to someone else who doesn't have the same sentimental, emotional pull as you do. It'll be mighty hard to leave here. Leave Ella's pond. Leave every single inch of this place behind. But if it happens this year or in five more years, it'll still be a wrench on my soul. So no time like the present, with a corker of a place to see yourself moving to, to stop putting off the inevitable, 'eh? (This is the part where you all say, "GO! LEAVE! Put in your highest HIIIIGHEST possible offer on the other place so you secure it outright!!!" please, so I don't lose my nerve)

Please oh please oh please let this all work out. I've wasted too many nights in a row of not relaxing fully on this one, instead redrawing floor plans (and quite deftly, if I do say so meself *lofty sniff*) and contemplating worst-case-scenarios with Mr Sensible CFO.